


A Good Arm

by Einsof



Series: A Good Solution [3]
Category: Xenoblade Chronicles
Genre: Aftercare, Corporal Punishment, Dominance, M/M, Relationship Negotiation, Spanking, Strapping, Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-17 01:48:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8125744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Einsof/pseuds/Einsof
Summary: As the party arrives in Satorl Marsh, the time has come for Shulk's vision to come true. But Dunban's unexpected return leads first to complications, and then to surprising revelations.





	

Under normal circumstances, Shulk would have been…’happy’ would be the wrong word, naturally, but relieved, at least, to a certain extent. At least this time he was absolutely sure he was getting a spanking, and there wasn’t any ambiguity in his mind as to why. Cold comfort, but comfort nonetheless.

He’d seen it flash across Reyn’s eyes in the ether mines below Colony 6, when Reyn had had to tease out of him that he’d had another vision, this one foretelling Otharon’s death. There’d been a brief, intense flash of anger across Reyn’s face, quickly suppressed, and Shulk rather got the impression that after he’d detailed the vision to his companions, Reyn had been at least a little bit less angry. Or his hand less itchy, Shulk supposed to himself, with a hint of wryness.

Not that he relished the notion of another humiliating, painful trip over Reyn’s knee; far from it. But at least unlike last time it wouldn’t be a complete surprise to him that it was coming. He had time to prepare.

In fact, Shulk had more time than he knew what to do with.

He’d assumed, had he given the matter any thought at all at the time, that they’d finish their business in the mine, head to the surface, and at the earliest possible opportunity Reyn would take him aside and spank him privately. It wasn’t as if he’d had a lot of time to focus on the circumstances under which Reyn would spank him – things had begun to move very quickly once they were inside the mine, and Shulk’s most immediate concerns hadn’t been his impending punishment but saving Otharon, saving Juju, dealing with Xord, and getting out of the mines alive. He’d had no quiet minutes to reflect on what was going to happen to his backside if he and the others managed to get out the mines with their skins intact. Admittedly, as the freight elevator had risen into the sunlight and Xord had smouldered at the bottom of the shaft beneath them, Shulk had first breathed a sigh of relief and then felt one hand drift, unconsciously, to his backside. He’d assumed it would only be a matter of hours before the matter was dealt with. Then the attack at the Colony had taken place, and the sudden appearance of Dunban and Dickson, and there’d simply been no time for Shulk and Reyn to slip off alone and deal with it.

Now it was two days later, Shulk remained unspanked, and it was safe to say that, out of danger and descending into Satorl Marsh, he was fully preoccupied with his spanking. It wasn’t that Reyn had forgotten or had decided to make do without; Shulk could feel the tension thrumming between them whenever they’d spoken on the trail, ad seen in Reyn’s eyes a kind of flinty intensity he’d never seen before.

The waiting was dreadful, and it was new; Dunban had always been efficient and matter-of-fact about dealing with Shulk’s punishments, and neither time that Reyn had spanked Shulk had any significant amount of time passed between the offense and the spanking. Shulk had always and only had to deal with the pain and embarrassment of being spanked in the immediate aftermath of his transgression. He’d never known one was coming, and had to wait, and wait, and wait for it.

His tension had been running high long before their growing party had begun its descent from the high plains around Colony 6 into the low, dark, damp wetlands of the Satorl Marsh, and the damp, loamy smell of the bog had reached him. In an instant Shulk was transported back into the vision he’d had that night on the plateau, the taste of salt on his lips and the smell of marsh in his nostrils, the sound of the belt as it whistled through the air…

_Oh_ , he’d thought to himself. _Oh._

That night, after everyone had eaten, Shulk had taken himself apart for a little while, ostensibly to set up his tent, but for the most part to calm himself down now that he was absolutely certain that he was going to be spanked quite imminently. This was the first time since the Ether Mine that circumstances had afforded him and Reyn any of the privacy that Shulk had made Reyn promise to the last time, and barring a sudden ambush on their camp Shulk couldn’t conceive of a single reason why Reyn shouldn’t presently be on his way to take the matter in hand. Hopefully. Or not.

The belt. Shulk hated the belt. It was more painful than just being spanked by hand, and worse, it was more comprehensive, covering with a single stroke what it would take two or three smacks to cover otherwise. Burned like fire. Unrolling his bedroll, Shulk shuddered just to think about it.

Then he paused.

Since he’d realized that his vision was shortly going to come true, Shulk had been so preoccupied with the notion of getting the belt that he’d never stopped to consider how that was going to come to pass. He’d extracted a promise from Reyn to not give him anything more serious than a hand-spanking without first getting Shulk to agree with it, and while Shulk certainly felt badly about keeping a vision back from Reyn – again – he didn’t know that he felt bad enough about it that he’d agree to be spanked with a belt. And Reyn hadn’t seemed all that keen on spanking Shulk with anything other than his hand, even if he did sometimes seem to be unusually keen on the idea of spanking Shulk to tears. So it was hard to conceive of a circumstance under which Shulk would find himself spanked with a belt.

He rolled his shoulders, sitting back on his haunches, and felt some of the tension drain out of his body. The vision had been, after all, one of the reasons he’d asked Reyn for his promise back on the Leg; it wasn’t as if he’d never agree to be given the belt, but it was nice to have a say in it, at any rate. Dunban had never really solicited Shulk’s opinions about his punishments, and he’d had a very particular set of rules, some of which simply called for the belt as a matter of course, but with Reyn…

Shulk paused.

_Dunban._ Dunban and his rules…

He frowned and felt some of the tension seep back into him. But that didn’t make sense either, since Reyn had taken charge, and…but then again…

He heard a rustling outside the entrance to his tent.

“Shulk,” he heard Dunban call softly from outside, “can Reyn and I come in and talk to you?”

* * *

Every time Shulk thought that the situation could not get any worse, fate found a way to make it happen. It had been hard enough, as a teenager, getting used to the fact that his swordmaster expected him to submit to being spanked when Shulk wasn’t applying himself enough; worse when it turned out that his closest friends had been aware of the fact that he was spanked; but he’d really thought it couldn’t get any worse when he’d found himself stark naked, lying over Reyn’s knee.

At least, he hadn’t thought it couldn’t get any worse until he found himself sitting in his tent discussing his spankings with both the men who’d administered them to him as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

His stomach had started to feel heavy and his face started to feel warm as soon as Dunban and Reyn came into the tent and he’d seen their faces. Dunban had the resolute, square-jawed, slightly cold set to his features that he always had when Shulk was about to be spanked; Reyn’s expressive face betrayed a curious combination of relief and discomfort. 

So he’d sat, cross legged, across from them, feeling his face grow red and hot, as Dunban and Reyn – mostly, to be fair, Dunban, as Reyn seemed uncomfortable just being there – told him what they’d talked about and what they’d decided. As if it was normal. As if it wasn’t humiliating.

“So that’s what Reyn and I decided,” Dunban finished, resting his elbow on his knee and his chin contemplatively on his hand. “I think you’ll agree that it makes the most sense, and will hopefully be the least upsetting option for you.” He nodded to himself ever so slightly, as if anticipating Shulk’s agreement. “After all, I have markedly more experience in that area than Reyn does.” When the silence dragged on slightly longer than he’d obviously been anticipating, Dunban glanced at Reyn, who for the most part had sat silently by while Dunban had spoken. Reyn visibly started.

“Right, yeah,” Reyn stammered a little, and managed to look at Shulk’s face without meeting his eyes. “I mean, it was definitely a good idea, at first, but now that Dunban’s back…” He paused. “Now that Dunban’s back it just makes more sense for things to go back to how they were.”

_How they were._ Shulk’s mind flashed back, unbidden, to just before dawn outside the refugee camp on the Gaur plains, and he remembered, suddenly and with shocking clearness, the warmth of Reyn’s body, the salty dampness of his own tears on Reyn’s neck, the strength of the arm that had gently, hesitantly, encircled him, pressing into the small of his back. How they were. 

And suddenly Shulk was angry. He frowned, leaned forward, forced Reyn’s eyes to meet his. His cheeks felt hot, though for once not just from embarrassment. Reyn blinked at whatever he saw in Shulk’s eyes, as if startled.

“You told him,” Shulk said quietly, doing his best to keep his voice level. Something tightened in his chest. “You promised.”

Reyn blinked again, and for a moment looked confused, but then he started in surprise and Shulk saw the colour drain out of his face. “What, him?” he asked, startled, pointing rudely at Dunban with one thumb. “He doesn’t count. He already knew that you were…I mean, not by me, but…by him…right? I mean, he doesn’t count, does he?” His eyes were wide now, and not just with confusion and surprise. Shulk saw something else, right away: upset at the notion that, even inadvertently, Reyn had broken his word.

As quickly as the anger had surfaced, the look in Reyn’s eyes boiled most of it away. Shulk glanced aside sheepishly, and rubbed the back of his neck, looking, for lack of anywhere better to put his own eyes, at his own knee. It would be like Reyn to go off half-cocked, without thinking things through clearly. And Shulk could, if he squinted, see how Reyn thought that, his promise of secrecy notwithstanding, talking to Dunban about it wouldn’t be out of line.

“I just wanted you to be comfortable,” Reyn said into the lengthening silence, lamely.

Shulk sighed and glanced up again, unable to quite meet Reyn’s eyes. “Thanks,” he offered Reyn, equally lamely. “I can see why you thought it would be okay, I just…if it’s all the same to everyone, I’d rather be involved in these kinds of conversations going forward. And not just after the fact. But I…” He paused. “I do appreciate that you were just trying to make everything a little bit easier on me. Sorry I lost my temper.”

Reyn blinked, then grinned, and the last of the tension between them drained away. “That was you losing your temper?”

Shulk smiled back, he suspected a little wanly, but it started to feel better. Then, before he could reply to Reyn, Dunban spoke instead, preceding his words with a discrete cough into his hand.

“Then we’re all agreed?” he asked, though he was staring directly at Shulk as he spoke, and not at Reyn at all. “That while it was good of Reyn to step in in my absence, now that I’m here I’ll resume my responsibilities?”

Reyn didn’t reply, but then again, it seemed as though he and Dunban had already agreed, without him. And Shulk, confronted with Dunban’s piercing brown eyes, waiting expectantly, suddenly wasn’t sure he was agreed, though he couldn’t for the life of himself have said why. 

Obviously being spanked by Reyn had been dreadful, and humiliating, and painful. Especially the first time. There was obviously a lot about disciplining people that Reyn didn’t understand or hadn’t ever thought about, and the fact that Shulk hadn’t thought to talk to Reyn about it before he left him spank him the first time suggested that some of those things were also things that Shulk took for granted, didn’t feel it necessary to explain. And Reyn was his friend. His best friend. And Dunban was…well, he was something else entirely. 

Dunban had been spanking Shulk for a couple of years now, ever since Shulk had come to him to learn about swordplay. And while Shulk was sure that the first couple of times Dunban had pulled down Shulk’s pants to spank him, it had been completely mortifying and humiliating, he was also sure that over time it had grown…slightly less mortifying and humiliating. Slightly. And on top of being mortifying and humiliating, both times Reyn had spanked him the entire situation had been strange and emotionally complicated in a way that it had never been like with Dunban. He’d never expected – never even particularly wanted – Dunban to hold him and reassure him after he’d been spanked. That had been nice, but it had also been strange. The entire thing had been strange. Being spanked by Dunban wasn’t strange, except insofar as he was eighteen years old and Dunban still felt entitled to spank him.

So, Dunban.

Obviously.

And yet…and yet…

He thought of himself and Reyn leaning against the tree outside the refugee camp, laughing at the ridiculousness of the entire situation. He thought again of that arm encircling his lower back. He thought of his hand on Reyn’s wrist, guiding Reyn’s rough, calloused fingers across his bare skin, showing him where he needed to be touched…

Glancing at Reyn again, Shulk saw that he was looking away again, scrupulously inspecting a corner of the tent. Discomfort was writ large across his face. Obviously Reyn just wanted to be gone and out of there, not have to worry about this entire bizarre situation any longer. He’d just wanted Shulk to be comfortable, obviously, but it also wasn’t as if he’d wasted any time handing his new responsibilities off to Dunban once the opportunity had arisen. It wouldn’t be fair to Reyn to…and it wouldn’t even make sense for Shulk to want to…

His cheeks were growing hot again, and something was turning over in his chest. Then something occurred to him and he looked at Dunban. “What about your arm? I mean, can you even…?” Ever since Dunban’s return from Sword Valley, he hadn’t even been able to hold a sword in his right arm. The Monado had seen to that. So in the intervening year there hadn’t been any swordplay lessons and, by extension, no spankings. Even as he asked Shulk noticed that even now, in the privacy of their own camp, Dunban still wore the carefully affixed cloak that covered his scarred and withered right arm.

Unconsciously, Dunban reached up with his left arm, across his own body, and grasped his right shoulder with his left hand. He smiled ruefully. “My good arm still isn’t good for that much, Shulk,” he conceded. “But I think if I can wield a sword with my left arm, I can handle you just as well.”

Right. That made sense. Shulk looked at Reyn again, saw he was still inspecting a corner of the tent. That pretty much resolved it, then.

Didn’t it?

“Yes, of course,” Shulk said hastily, glancing down at his own lap. “That makes perfect sense. Best for everyone, I suppose.”

Dunban clapped his left hand to his knee and nodded decisively. “Good. I’m pleased to see you’re handling this situation maturely, Shulk. I’m sure the entire situation has been very awkward for you.” He started to get to his feet. Reyn exhaled slowly, a breath he’d evidently been holding, and also got to his feet. He gave Shulk an awkward smile, but didn’t speak as he turned towards the entrance to the tent. Dunban, meanwhile, nodded towards the exit while looking at Shulk. “Come along, then.”

Shulk blinked. His stomach flipped again. “What?” he stammered. “Now?”

“No point waiting,” Dunban noted. “Reyn already explained to me that you’ve been keeping your visions to yourself. He told me that that is how this entire arrangement got started. And he furthermore related to me that you repeated your error in the mines a few days ago and had only been waiting for a good moment to speak with me before handling the matter himself.” Dunban placed his left hand on his hip and frowned sternly, and when he spoke again it was with a tone that Shulk knew all too well. “So it seems to me that even though you might ask ‘now’ as if you were surprised, you’ve actually known you were owed a punishment for some time.”

_Longer than you know,_ Shulk thought sorrowfully. All the various pieces of his vision had now fallen into place. Dunban took a particularly grim view of needing to spank Shulk twice for the same offense, a fact that Shulk had learned several times over the course of their relationship, to his sorrow and regret.

“Uh, listen,” Reyn interjected softly. “You guys don’t need me for this anymore? I can just…I can just go?”

“Yes, Reyn,” Dunban said, as if it was his tent they were in and it was his business to say who could come and who could go. Shulk didn’t bristle, though he wondered that perhaps he ought to; it was just Dunban’s way to treat every space he entered as if he belonged there. “That’ll be all. Thank you for everything you’ve done for Shulk.”

“Right,” Shulk said softly, watching Reyn’s broad back disappear through the tent entrance. “Thank you, Reyn.” But he was already gone.

After a moment Dunban nodded to Shulk and they both left the tent together. Reyn was already a good ways away, by the circle of firelight, with Sharla, Juju, Otharon, and Dickson. His back was to them. Obviously glad to be done with the whole thing. Shulk glanced at Dunban, and Dunban gave him a reassuring clap on the shoulder.

“This won’t be pleasant,” Dunban said, leading Shulk away from the firelight and towards the damp, vine-choked woods all around them. “But it needs to happen, and you’ve got it coming to you. So let’s get it sorted and put it behind us, shall we?”

Shulk found himself nodding, though he felt numb and sad, more than he felt anxious about his impending punishment. As Dunban led him away, he glanced once over his shoulder and saw Reyn still seated by the fire, his back to them. Glad to have that whole mess off his hands, no doubt. Shulk ought to be, too. Ought to be.

_How they were. Yeah._

_Great._

* * *

“Well,” Dunban announced several minutes later, and Shulk felt his heart sink. “I think this will do.”

It would do nicely; Shulk was sure of that much. Looking around, he saw nothing that deviated from the contents of his vision, which was coming back to him more readily the closer it came to fruition. The beautiful, eerie glow of the marsh at night lit the air just like fireflies. The air smell warm and sweet just as before; he could already feel the way it would soon be stroking his bare skin. There was the log whose bark he remembered so clearly against his hips. He felt his shoulders slump; there were already hot tears stinging his eyes.

Dunban had rules – a lot of rules, Shulk had discovered – and violating them usually resulted in a spanking, even if only a few hard swats to the seat of his trousers. But one of the most important rules, and one of the ones that Shulk feared the most, was that repeated punishments for the same offense would always be answered by Dunban’s belt. Shulk, it went without saying, usually did his best to avoid that. But here he was.

Dunban was looking at him expectantly; Shulk felt himself flush. “Yes, Dunban,” he said with a sigh. “This looks fine.”

Nodding, Dunban undid the clasp of his cloak and swept it off his shoulders, hanging it on the protruding branch of a nearby tree, and began rolling up his left sleeve, a gesture Shulk recognized all too well. He glanced over his shoulder at Shulk as he did so. “Well?” he asked, raising his eyebrows, and Shulk, blushing, complied with the unspoken command, standing straight with his feet shoulder-width apart, arms up with his fingers knitted together on top of his head. Even though it had been a year since Sword Valley and a year since Dunban had last spanked him, Shulk still remembered what was expected of him. A moment later Dunban had crossed the small clearing towards him, and his hands were busy at the waist of Shulk’s pants, his right hand a little stiff but his left hand was as dextrous as ever.

“I suppose,” Dunban said thoughtfully, undoing Shulk’s trousers and opening them. “That you understand why you’ve found yourself in this position?” As he finished speaking and Shulk opened his mouth to answer, however, Dunban abruptly pulled Shulk’s pants, and his underwear, down to his ankles, momentarily shocking Shulk out of the ability to speak. He felt the cold air on his backside and thighs as his pants came down, felt his cock bounce in front of him as it slipped free of his underwear.

His hands being knitted on top of his head had raised the hem of his shirt a little above his waist; Dunban’s unceremonious pulling down of Shulk’s pants left him bare from the waist down and crimson from the nipples up. While it wasn’t uncommon for Dunban to undress him in this way before spanking him, it was something Shulk never got used to, and he stammered, trying to remember what he’d been about to say. 

“Well?” Dunban prompted him, straightening, leaving Shulk’s pants and underwear down around his ankles. 

Shulk shook his head to clear it, trying not to pay attention to the way the cool marsh air was playing across his bare skin. “Uh, yes,” he forced out, screwing his eyes shut to help himself focus. “Yes, I do.”

“And why is that?” Dunban asked. Shulk should have seen that coming; Dunban liked to talk his way through punishments, lecturing and pontificating and moralizing. Would’ve been simpler just to answer the question fully in the first place, and a year ago Shulk would probably have known to do that, just to get it over with faster. But now he felt off-balanced, confused, anxious, and upset. He felt on the back-foot again, and he didn’t like it.

“Because, ah…” Talking with his pants down made it surprisingly hard to focus. He heard the whisper of Dunban’s belt being pulled free of his pants and he shivered. “Because I had a vision that was important to everyone and, ah, I chose not to bring it to anyone’s attention.”

“And why did you make that choice?”

Shulk paused, the question so obvious that it threw him off completely. He hadn’t actually stopped to consider why he’d kept the vision to himself; once again he’d been too focused on the fact of being spanked to think about why he’d done the thing which had earned him the spanking in the first place. The truth was he didn’t have a good sense of why he’d kept it to himself. It had just seemed like the right thing to do at the time. Eyes still closed, he paused for a second and tried to take himself back to the moment that he’d decided not to tell – and he had decided not to tell, he remembered that he’d made that choice – and tried to recall why he’d made that choice. And he couldn’t.

He heard Dunban shift a little bit, impatiently, and remembered that Dunban didn’t like being kept waiting in situations like this. Too long of a silence could earn him a few hard smacks to his bottom and a repeat of the question. An unsatisfactory answer, experience had taught Shulk, was better to Dunban than no answer at all. He opened his eyes and felt his shoulders slump as he met Dunban’s clear, expectant gaze. “I don’t know,” he offered quietly. “I really don’t.”

Dunban had crossed his arms over his chest while he waited for Shulk to answer; the belt, looped in half, hung menacingly from Dunban’s hand as he waited. At Shulk’s answer, Dunban smiled a little wanly, as if reading the distress and confusion in Shulk’s eyes. “I have a theory,” he said, and took Shulk’s right arm and lifted it from his head. Shulk let the other drop and Dunban led him, hobbled by the pants pooled around his ankles, over to the log. “We’ll discuss it while we see to your punishment, shall we?”

“Yes, Dunban,” Shulk sighed, and he left Dunban lean him forward, guide his body downwards, and lie him across the log, shifting him until his toes barely touched the ground and his hands were planted flat on the damp dirt on the other side. In this position Shulk had no leverage to speak of; the log was wider and higher than Reyn’s lap and with his hips positioned just atop the log he would need help to get up but not have any difficulty staying in place while Dunban spanked him. After Dunban let him go, Shulk took a moment to shift his body as best he could, trying to find a position that was at least a little bit comfortable, but the bark was rough against his bare skin and his upper body was pitched downwards at a steep angle that was distinctly uncomfortable. The sensation of his cock pressed against the log was an unpleasant one, but it wasn’t painful and there didn’t seem to be anything he could do about it.

“Dunban,” Shulk croaked weakly from his position jackknifed over the log, his eyes welling up with anticipatory tears. He hated the pleading, childish quality that had entered his voice, hated the way it made it sound as if he was the kind of eighteen-year-old who needed periodic spankings just to keep in mind to mind his behaviour. “Dunban,” he repeated, trying not to sound as if he was pleading “I’m sorry, I really am…I won’t do it again. I promise.”

He stiffened in surprise as he felt Dunban’s hand come to rest gently on his bare backside, giving him what he assumed was supposed to be a reassuring pat. “I know you’ll do your best,” Dunban conceded. “And I do hope you’ll keep your promise. But in the meantime…” The hand was withdrawn, and a moment later Shulk felt the supple leather of the belt come to rest across his cheeks, not put there with any force but just rested on his backside. He cringed and felt his cheeks clench together hard. “In the meantime we’re going to sort this matter out, aren’t we?”

“Yes,” he whimpered, hating the feel of the leather against his skin. No point whining about it, he tried to tell himself. Might as well just get it over with. “Yes, Dunban.”

“Good lad,” Dunban told him, sounding genuine, and then he hit him.

The first lash of the belt came down across the center of Shulk’s backside, and he felt the flesh of his cheeks leap in response to the blow; the pain came a split second later and even though Shulk knew that Dunban wasn’t yet striking him with all the force he eventually would be, the pain was still intense and he bit back a shout. His legs kicked out weakly in response to the blow, but the log was high and broad enough that he had very little ability to struggle.

Dunban paused for just a moment to let Shulk get his breath, but when he hit him again he did so three times in rapid succession, letting the belt fall wherever it may on Shulk’s exposed, upturned skin. Shulk whimpered and kicked out again with each blow, screwing his eyes tightly shut and scrabbling with his hands to try to find some purchase on the log, something to hold onto.

“Your visions,” Dunban said to Shulk as he lashed him with the belt again, harder this time, “are our primary advantage against the Mechon.” He ignored Shulk’s plaintive cries as he spoke, settling into a steady rhythm with the belt. “Without them, the other advantages of the Monado are blunted.”

“I…I know…” Dunban was gradually increasing the speed of the blows he was delivering to Shulk’s bottom, though he was, with an expert’s hand, leaving the intensity of the blows roughly the same. The belt hurt terrifically, though, even with Dunban just warming him up; it struck hardest across the middle of its length, but the flexible leather curled around the curves of his backside to lick at the sides as well, spreading the heat of the blows across his flesh. “Ah! Dunban! Please!”

Dunban ignored Shulk’s pleas, which wasn’t surprising. “What it come down to, Shulk,” he went on, continuing to lash Shulk with the belt, “is that you will share your visions with the rest of the group.” He continued to ignore Shulk’s plaintive cries and weak struggling. “I would prefer for it to be because we start to understand why you don’t want to share the visions,” he offered as Shulk’s cries rose in volume and desperation, “but if I must settle for simply making you fear the belt, Shulk…well, that’s how it has to be, I suppose, for the good of the rest of us. Is that clear?”

Shulk squirmed and tried to buck across the breadth of the log, but there was no place he could go, nothing he could do, to get away from the relentless blows of the belt. Tears were already rolling copiously down his cheeks, and he could feel the first desperate, regretful sobs building in his chest. His ability to kick his legs was limited by the pants and underwear still tangled around his ankles, but he could feel them starting to invert over his feet; he’d kick them off soon enough, and be too far gone to care.

Dunban lashed him again, harder, across the base of his bottom, where he was most sensitive, and Shulk shrieked in surprise. “I asked you, Shulk, if that was clear.”

“Yes!” Shulk managed to force out between the first pained sobs and his pained hiccups. “Yes! Clear, yes! Please!” He kicked out again, starting to lose control of himself; it had been so long since he’d been belted that he wasn’t used to it, and it was pushing him over the edge of self-control faster than usual.

Having increased the force of his blows and started to spank the most sensitive parts of Shulk’s bottom, Dunban increased the ferocity of the spanking, hitting Shulk harder and faster all over his backside. He ignored Shulk’s cries and pleas as he continued to lecture. “I know,” he told Shulk, speaking louder to be heard over the sobs, “better than anyone other than you, what a terrible responsibility the Monado can be. I can only imagine how difficult it must be to deal with the responsibility of being able to see into the future as well.”

He paused for a second, laying the belt limply across Shulk’s crimson and throbbing bottom, to give Shulk a moment to collect himself. Shulk knew Dunban’s technique too well to think that meant that the spanking was over; for one thing, Dunban hadn’t made his point yet, and the spankings never stopped until Dunban’s point had been made. But he liked to give Shulk a few breaks even during his harshest punishments, both to continue the lecture and to make sure that Shulk retained enough presence of mind to focus on what was being said.

Shulk bawled helplessly, pawing weakly at his face as he cried, trying to bring his breathing under control. His shirt had slipped up under his armpits as a result of his squirming, and his pants and underwear dangled limply off his right ankle. His upturned bottom was a throbbing mass of pain, aching down towards his thighs. The strongest lashes of the belt, particularly those on the lower curve of his bottom, stood out against the background ache that Dunban had inflicted on him, hot lines of pain across his skin, and Shulk knew that he’d have welts come the morning.

“I…I’m sorry, Dunban, I’m sorry,” he panted between heaving breaths, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand.

“I know,” Dunban told Shulk softly, resting his hand in the curve of Shulk’s bare back and patting him gently. “We’ll be done soon. But we’re not finished with our talk.” Shulk whimpered softly as Dunban absently lifted Shulk’s right leg and pulled his pants and underwear off his ankle, leaving him stark naked below the waist. He draped Shulk’s clothes over the log nearby as Shulk continued to draw big, heaving breaths. “I don’t enjoy doing this, Shulk, but you must share your visions with us, without needing to be forced. It’s your responsibility.”

“I know,” Shulk whimpered, squirming again weakly and trying to alleviate the pain in his backside. “I will…I will…I promise…”

“I’m afraid that’s not good enough,” Dunban told him, resuming rubbing the small of Shulk’s back in slow, comforting circles. He sighed. “As I was saying, I understand some of what you’re going through. The Monado is a terrible burden to have to carry. That much I know, and I didn’t have half of your affinity for it. When I went to Sword Valley, I knew that I went with the hopes of all Homs on my shoulders, and…” He paused. “It nearly destroyed me. I know you must be feeling that way too.”

Shulk lay still over the log now, only shifting his hips slightly as a way of trying to ease the pain without rubbing his bottom. His breathing more or less under control, he was no longer actively sobbing even though tears were still pouring copiously down his cheeks. When he tried to wet his lips, he tasted the salt of his own tears on his lips.

When Dunban spoke again, his voice was more tender, more regretful. “So I can only imagine how difficult it must be for you to bear the Monado under the circumstances that you are. I know how terrifying the possibility of failure must be…and I know how terrifying it must be to try to share that with anyone else. I know you’re a problem solver, at heart, and you’re accustomed to making your own way, but Shulk, you must share your burdens with the rest of us. And if we succeed, we’ll succeed together, and if we fail, we’ll fail together. As companions.” Dunban paused for a long moment and let the words hang between them. “Is that understood?”

The tears stinging Shulk’s eyes were no longer exclusively tears of pain, and he blinked several times to try and clear his blurring eyes. For a long moment he didn’t answer. 

“I failed Fiora,” he told Dunban, wiping at his flowing nose with his arm. He felt something in his chest start to unclench, and he hadn’t realized he’d been clenching it at all. “I let her down and I…” He hiccupped. “I have to live with that. F…forever. But if…but if…” He felt himself starting to sob again, though not because of the pain. “I couldn’t…I can’t do that to anyone else, Dunban, I can’t...”

He heard Dunban chuckle, softly, and Dunban patted his bottom gently, though even that gentle touch was enough to set Shulk squirming and whimpering. “I know it’s difficult, Shulk, and I know you have good intentions. But this is what you have to do. You have responsibilities now, and they’re terrible, but they don’t have to be yours alone. We all came with you knowing what it means to be at your side. We’re all prepared.”

He was right, of course. He usually was. Shulk felt the tight thing in his chest relax entirely and a fresh wave of sobbing accompanied the sudden release. He saw, as if it was new, Fiora, dying in front of him while he did nothing, saw Reyn dying in Tephra Cave, saw Otharon plunging into the roiling Ether river, felt the terrible weight of it that he’d been trying to avoid. He let himself, even for a moment, feel the enormous responsibility that sharing that kind of power would entail, the risks of hurt, and pain. And he knew why he hadn’t spoken up, and he knew that he’d been wrong…and he knew that he needed to be punished.

“That’s what soldiers do,” Shulk said, softly, and Dunban paused. When he continued speaking again, Dunban sounded vaguely surprised. 

“That’s what soldiers do,” he replied, and Shulk whimpered as he felt Dunban lift the belt off of his backside, heard him double it up in his hand again. Shulk’s fresh bout of sobbing increased in intensity. “And that’s what you’ll do, too, isn’t it?” Shulk nodded weakly. 

“I’ll be,” he told Dunban softly, “a good soldier. I’ll try.”

“Good lad,” Dunban replied, tapping the belt against Shulk’s skin. He paused for a second, then said: “Shall we finish up, Shulk?”

Shulk whimpered softly again and tried to force his spine and his cheeks to relax, screwing his eyes tightly shut. “Right,” he said quietly, trying to sound like he desperately didn’t want to plead. “Right, let’s…I’m ready.”

“Good lad,” Dunban said, and the vision came true.

* * *

When it was over, Dunban let Shulk lie limply over the log and sob loudly while Dunban slipped his belt back into his pants again. Once again, all the resistance had been beaten out of Shulk, and he’d simply laid still and wailed brokenly as Dunban had lashed him with the belt. Once again, his spanking had been over for a short time before Shulk had the presence of mind to realize he wasn’t being hit anymore; once he’d realized that, his sobbing began to ease, even if only a little.

After a few minutes, Dunban slipped his arms under Shulk’s armpits and gently helped him to his feet. Shulk stumbled coltishly on weak knees, still crying quietly, and leaned on Dunban slightly to support himself while he got his feet under him again. His backside burned from the top of his bottom to the top of his thighs, and he was long past caring that except for his shoes and his shirt, he was naked in front of Dunban. As soon as his legs were steady under him he began to try and rub the ache out of his backside, as firmly as he could manage to do so without bursting into fresh tears.

“All right,” Dunban said firmly, patting Shulk gently on his shoulder. “That will, hopefully, be the end of it.” Shulk nodded weakly, still not trusting himself to speak. After making sure Shulk was steady on his feet, Dunban retrieved his cloak from where he’d hung it over the tree branch, swept it elegantly over his shoulders, and affixed it beneath his neck. Just like that he was restored to himself, as if nothing at all had happened. “I’ll leave you to collect yourself, if you’d like.” Shulk nodded again. “You handled that well, Shulk. Good lad. We’ll speak no more of it.”

And then he was leaving, and for a second Shulk thought about calling out after him the way he’d called out after Reyn, asking to be held, just for a second, or reassured. But he didn’t, because it was Dunban, stern and tall and patrician and as remote, in his way, as the Mechonis. And so Shulk just let him leave, and quietly wished that something had been different.

Later, after Shulk had limped back to his tent and tied shut the flap, he stripped off his clothes and, not wanting to antagonize the skin on his bottom by changing into his sleeping clothes, simply stretched out, nude, atop the bedroll. He’d long since stopped crying, though his face still felt puffy and raw where his copious tears had cut red, angry paths into his cheeks.

He’d survived, and even learned something, which was good. He hated the belt – he’d always hated the belt – but he’d gotten through it, and what Dunban had said felt like it had hit the mark, like Dunban had coaxed something out of him that he hadn’t known had been hiding there. He felt sore, yes – very sore – but also relieved, and cleansed.

And yet…and yet…He thought about Reyn, with his back to him and Dunban as they’d left the camp, staring into the fire.

Lying on his stomach and resting his chin on his folded arms, Shulk closed his eyes, but it was a long time before he slept.

* * *

The first time he’d tried to talk to Dunban and Reyn the next day, at breakfast, Shulk’s face had gone bright red and the words had stuck in his throat. He’d stammered uselessly at them, then made some excuse, and slipped away as quickly as he could while minding the scorched state of his bottom. In the light of daylight, with the spanking fading into memory and the ache in his backside diminishing though not gone, it all suddenly seemed foolish, stupid, nonsensical. Embarrassing. So he kept silent.

But the longer they marched through the muggy swamp, the more it chewed away at Shulk. He’d been vexed, the previous night, when Reyn and Dunban had made decisions about his punishments without him; if he’d made one himself, then he had the right to share that with them. More than the right; he had the responsibility. If he never told them what it was he wanted – what it was he needed – then he couldn’t possibly expect them to know. 

And so, when they stopped for the evening meal, he’d told Dunban and Reyn that he needed to speak to them privately, and they’d stepped away from the others to speak. “Everything all right, Shulk?” Reyn asked with concern, setting his hand on Shulk’s shoulder. Shulk felt himself start to blush again immediately, and he glanced down.

“No,” he said, then corrected himself, “I mean, yes, I’m fine. Thank you. But I need to talk to you both.”

Dunban chuckled softly again, stroking his chin. “If this is about last night, Shulk, you needn’t worry…as far as I’m concerned, the entire thing is put behind us, and needn’t be spoken of again, unless you oblige us to.” He glanced at Reyn. “And Reyn and I have already discussed that the entire matter will stay between the three of us, and any further issues going forward will be just between you and I.”

“Right,” Shulk said, trying to raise his eyes and look Reyn and Dunban in the eyes. “That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.” He forced his eyes up, met their gazes briefly, then closed them again, took a deep breath, and decided to just get it over with. “I want Reyn to spank me.”

There was a bit of a silence, during which all Shulk could do was wait and cringe internally, waiting for them to laugh at him, question him, ridicule him. Instead, there was a long pause before Reyn said, in confusion, into the silence, “…now?”

“I’m not entirely sure that that’s what he means, Reyn,” Dunban said, sounding a bit confused, “though I’m not sure the alternative makes much sense either. Care to elaborate, Shulk?”

“I don’t…” Shulk paused. “I don’t mean now, Reyn, I mean, in general. When it’s called for.” He took another deep breath, found himself unable to keep looking them in the eyes, and looked down at his feet again, felt better. “I want you to do it. Not Dunban.” 

“You do?” Reyn replied, sounding shocked, though thankfully not amused. Shulk kept his eyes firmly on his shoes. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” he replied hastily, shrugging his shoulders. “I mean, it doesn’t matter. And I don’t know. I…” He shook his head, trying to clear himself. Talking about this, let alone in the way they were talking about it, made him feel nearly as exposed as if he were naked again, and it was making it hard to focus through the haze of discomfort and embarrassment. “I’m entitled to say what I prefer, aren’t I? It’s not as if I’m trying to get out of it.” He paused again, forced his gaze upwards one last time.

“I’m not arguing that the occasional spanking isn’t…called for,” he conceded. “And if you think I need one then that’s…that’s fine. But I get some say, I think, and this…this is what I want. Reyn.” He nodded decisively, then immediately turned to look at Dunban. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate what you’ve done for me, Dunban,” he offered hastily, “more or less.” Dunban’s wry smile alleviated some of Shulk’s tension. “It does help me. Sometimes. And I’m not…I’m not well prepared for what I’m undertaking.” He turned his gaze to Reyn, who looked equal parts baffled and uncomfortable. “But you did…I mean, you did a really good job, before. Teaching me about soldiering. And it’s just…different. Maybe…more effective. It’s what I’d prefer.” He frowned. “It’s what I’ve decided. I mean, if you don’t mind, Reyn, that is.”

Reyn stared at him in confusion, and Shulk felt himself start to blush harder. This was awful. Reyn was going to refuse, or laugh at him, or think he was crazy, or, or, or…

“I’ve no objection,” Dunban said quietly, still stroking his chin. His eyes on Shulk’s face were probing, and his voice quiet. “If that’s what Shulk thinks he needs, and you think you can do a suitable job, Reyn.”

“Me?” Reyn said, blinking and sounding startled. He looked from Shulk to Dunban as if just noticing that Dunban was there. “I can do it. Sure. I mean, I think I did a decent job the first time, right?” He glanced at Shulk, who couldn’t bring himself to agree out loud. “So, I mean, if Shulk – if you – want, then, I can…sure.”

Dunban thought this over for a second, then shrugged. “I suppose that decides it, then. You two will, of course, keep me up to date about if and when Shulk needs to be punished; I’ll need to keep track so I can ensure that you’re being as strict with him as I would be, but inside that framework, I can adopt a hand’s off approach. As long as you’re there to take up the slack.”

Reyn’s eyes were locked on Shulk’s; he suddenly seemed nervous. For a long second there was silence, and then Reyn swallowed hard and scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I can do that.”

“As you like,” Dunban conceded with a nod. “I suppose that settles it, then.” He glanced between Dunban and Shulk, then said, “I suppose the two of you will want to speak privately for a little bit, then. I’ll see you all back at the firepit.” And he turned and left.

Reyn stared at Shulk in confusion without speaking for a little while after Dunban departed; Shulk, for his part, think of anything to say, but it felt strange to just walk away. So they stared at each other in uncomfortable silence for a little bit.

“So…” Reyn said when the discomfort grew intolerable. “…what?”

“I don’t know,” Shulk blurted. “It was just…different with you. Not better or worse, just…different. I prefer it.”

“You prefer it?”

“You know what I mean,” Shulk replied testily, glancing aside. He hugged himself absently for a second. “I don’t enjoy this arrangement very much, as I’m sure you know, but if it must continue then I think I’m at least entitled to choose who’s going to…do it to me.”

Reyn shrugged diffidently at that by way of responding. “I guess so.” He stared at Shulk for a few moments more, then suddenly broke into a wide grin. “So…more lessons, then?”

For a second, Shulk found himself regretting his decision. He felt his nearly omnipresent blush, which had been diminishing over the last several minutes, return full force, and he looked away from Reyn’s face, flustered. “More lessons. If you need them. If I need them.”

“Right, right,” Reyn said, stepping alongside Shulk and clapping him on the shoulder so jubilantly that he stumbled a bit. “If you need them.” He draped his arm over Shulk’s shoulder. “It’s kind of flattering, actually,” he announced, grinning at Shulk’s growing discomfort. “To be asked, I mean.”

“Don’t let it go to your head, please,” Shulk asked him as they started to walk back towards the fire. “It’s entirely possible that it won’t even come up. I mean…I do feel as if Dunban really got through to me last night.”

“Sure, sure,” Reyn agreed, waving a dismissive hand. “Might not even come up. After all,” he told Shulk, “all you have to do is apply yourself. I’ll keep teaching you, and you’ll do your best, and that’ll probably be the end of it. Right?”

“Right,” Shulk replied, and he stepped on an uneven bit of ground in the growing dimness, stumbled a bit, and felt the fabric of his underpants rub painfully across the welts on his bottom. He winced, but Reyn didn’t seem to notice. “That’ll be the end of it.”

_Sure._


End file.
